


Hate To Disappoint

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: After asking to go to the restroom, McCree has been gone far too long.





	Hate To Disappoint

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: #6 mcreyes? Perhaps in a dropship on the way to a different country for a black ops mission and jesses been “peeing” for way too long
> 
> 6\. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

_Where the fuck did McCree go?_  Their destination was swiftly approaching, and Gabe hadn’t seen that goddamn cowboy for awhile. It was just a dropship, not a damn cruise ship, there was nothing to see or explore. They were damned lucky to even have a bathroom in it, honestly, which was where Jesse had said he was going to.

It didn’t take thirty minutes to take a piss. 

Reyes hadn’t wanted to say anything at first. What a man did in the bathroom was his own business, and shit, it was never a definite that they’d be making it back. If he wanted one last run at lasso’ing the ol’ horse, then who was he to deny him. He hell… _thirty minutes?_  Even the bests of shits should only take twenty-five at longest.  
  
Well, at least in the case where sitting down meant you could faintly hear the plates in the bottom of it rattling as if it were going to break and suck you into the plumbing along with your waste.

Part of him was just annoyed that he hadn’t asked him to come  _with him_  if he was wanting to get off. The fuck was he there for, if not to ride him like a show horse?

Gabe gave him another five minutes before he pulled himself out of his seat with a huff, and stalked his way back to the bathroom. Trying the knob, he found it locked tight. “McCree, wipe your ass and get out here!” He barked, knocking loudly on the steel door.

There was a shuffle of cloth, followed by what sounded like a muted retch. “Just…a minute…” 

The seasoned soldier’s face softened some to hear McCree. “You alright?” he asked, trying the knob again. “Lemme in.”

There was a pause before the sound of metal sliding within a mechanism sounded, and Gabe could get the door open. “Watch your step.” 

The smell of vomit was overwhelming, hitting him full on the moment he’d opened the door. It looked as if Jesse hadn’t even made it time, a splatter of brown vomit just inside the door, and another next to the toilet…the seat of which was painted with a stain of bright red blood on the edge. “Fuck, what happened?” 

McCree looked up, still dazed, a cut above his bushy thick brow. “I got dizzy on the way down, got caught off guard.”   
  
Gabe frowned, reaching for a bit of toilet paper, and moved to dab around the area, thankful that McCree’s brows were thick enough to hold most of the blood in them before it could get to his eye. “That’s going to take stitches.”  
  
“’s fine…” McCree insisted quietly, not even in the realm of sounding fine, let alone  _looking_ like he was going to be okay. He was pale, sweaty, and flushed across his cheeks and nose. Those usually jovial eyes were glossy and unfocused. 

“You’re not.” Gabriel sighed heavily. “You’re staying on the ship. No arguments. Let’s get you cleaned up, and–”

“Not done…” The cowboy whispered, just laying his cheek against the seat. “Just can’t get the rest to come up.”  
  
“You’re done for now, so let’s get you up and out of here.” 

Stubbornly, McCree refused. “Help me get the rest of this up…I can’t handle feelin’ like this.” 

Gabriel stared at him a long moment, before he got up and left the restroom. For a moment, Jesse thought for sure he’d just been abandoned, before Gabriel returned with some water. “Chug that down.”   
  
Jesse didn’t have to be told twice, taking the bottle, and drinking it down fast enough that his stomach would have been upset even on a good day. Slipping further inside, Gabriel knelt beside him, mindful of the vomit, and wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his belly. “If you tell anyone about this…”

If he weren’t so sick, McCree would have smiled at that, amused that Gabe would think anyone would even  _believe_  him if he said that Gabriel Reyes rubbed his upset tummy. That rubbing, however, was just exacerbating the churning in his stomach, and without much warning, he pitched forward and expelled a good amount of the water, still cold, right back up into the bowl. He didn’t even get to rest back before the next wave came with such force that he missed, spraying the back of the toilet. 

He was trembling, his angry stomach unforgiving as he brought up more and more of his stomach contents, relentless. Gabe could feel the heat radiating from his body as the cowboy puked, his skin darkening from the strain and lack of oxygen. Jesse’s vision began to waver after another particularly violent round of vomiting, feeling like his insides were tearing apart. 

“Hey…hey stay with me now. Don’t need you hitting your head again,” Gabe said trying to hold him up and rub his back. It seemed like forever before it finally passed, leaving him soaked in sweat, dry heaving a bit, with broken blood vessels in his eyes.   
  
“I think you’re empty, bub,” Gabe’s voice was gentle, holding him. “Can you stand?” 

McCree’s head lulled against him a moment, before a weak ‘no’ left his lips.   
  
“That’s alright.” He said, turning to get a better hold on him before he hoisted him into his arms. “Let’s get you laid down.”  
  
~fin~


End file.
